Bipartisanship
by ModernScribe
Summary: Two people, one office, and an argument. What could possible happen? Nothing, right? ON HIATUS TILL FURTHER NOTICE
1. Part 1

**Disclaimer: Everything is the property of "The West Wing", the only thing I own is all seven seasons on DVD.  
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**Bipartisanship: Part One**

"SAAAAAAAM!"

Sam heaved a heavy sigh to hear Josh bellowing from the other side of the hall. It was Friday night and he was in desperate need of some rest and relaxation.

It had been a typical week at the White House. There had been a situation involving a missing reporter, a bill on gay rights was causing problems on the hill, and the President was planning a major event in less than two weeks.

Needless to say, he hadn't had a good night's sleep in quite some time. Four years, three months, two weeks, five days, twenty-one hours, and six minutes to be exact, but who was counting?

Sam was looking forward to a nice, early evening with _Camelot_ and a cup of strong tea. But as usual, it looked as if his job would once again be preventing him from such enjoyment.

"Yeah?" Sam answered back, despondently.

"I need you to look over this language and make sure all the legal mumbo-jumbo makes sense. You might need Ainsely; Leo wants a Republican's opinion." By this time Josh had arrived at his doorway and was holding the offending memo up like a virgin sacrifice.

"Fine, I'll get to it in the morning." Sam had briefly considered arguing, but felt he was just too tired to really make an effort.

"Leo needs it tomorrow morning. Can't you and Ainsley just work on it now? It's only eight," Josh said, looking imploringly at him. "I'll take your meeting with Congresswoman Howser tomorrow and you can have the weekend off."

Sam paused for a moment, considering.

He didn't much care for Congresswoman Howser. Her policies were all right, but her patronizing manner of speaking always got on his nerves. Besides that, he really wanted the weekend off. Not that it would stay free. Major political emergencies had a habit of occurring whenever he attempted some alone time.

"I'll do it, just leave it on my desk." It's not like he would have ended up _not_ doing it; he never was one to leave a friend in need.

"You'll get Ainsley to help?"

Sam groaned inwardly. It's not that he didn't like Ainsley or anything; it was just that there was something indescribable about her that rankled him. It might have been her southern-tipped voice, her swishy walk, her long blond hair, or her slender frame. Or possibly it was her tendency to talk fast when she got nervous or passionate, her argumentative nature, her constant need for sustenance, or her stubborn attitude. Or maybe it was just that she was a Republican. Sam wasn't really sure.

After another moment's consideration, he decided not to give Josh the satisfaction of an answer and just waved him out of his office.

A few minutes later, he headed off for the steam pipe distribution venue in the basement also known as Ainsley's office.

"Hey, Ainsley, are you busy?" Sam said, knocking softly on the doorway to her open office.

Ainsley looked up, traces of a scowl etched on her face. Obviously her day hadn't been going well either.

"Oh no, Sam, why would I, a member of the White House legal council, be busy on a Friday night and not able to drop everything for a friendly conversation with a fellow coworker?"

Although Sam did not miss the heavy sarcasm, he chose to ignore it, saying in response, "In that case, I need your help. Leo needs this memo looked over before tomorrow morning."

"And why, pray tell, can't you, the almighty Sam Seaborn, Princeton alumni, legal mastermind, and world-renowned speech writer, read through it yourself?" Her sarcasm was once again making a weighted appearance.

Sam gritted his teeth. The week he'd had combined with a large dose of Ainsley's special mix of extremely long, complex sentences and cynicism was a brew strong enough to make a nun swear.

Fortunately Sam was not a nun.

His less than purely friendly voice got stonier as he replied, "I simply needed a little help weeding through some of the language. I also wanted your opinion of the draft."

"And by my opinion you mean a Republican's." Her voice too had become colder and she'd somehow made it around her desk.

"Well yeah. You are the only Republican here, or have you forgotten the Democrats won?" Sam didn't really know why they had started arguing, but had no intention of leaving a fight half-finished. He took a step closer as well, just to prove his point.

"Is that all I'm good for, playing the Devil's advocate? Who do you think I am? Some dog tied up on a leash in the basement, just waiting to do its master's bidding? Well I'll have you know, Sam Seaborn, I am not the President's bitch, nor anyone else's for that matter! I am a proud and loyal member of the Republican party, just as my father and grandfather were before me!" She punctuated every sentence with a firm step forward and an accusatory jab with her finger. Her voice had lost its stony timber and had escalated into a full-scale bellow of southern rage. Her face was a livid purple.

"Nobody said you were! I came down here to ask for your input! I don't need your help!" His voice too had gotten louder and somewhere along the line, he had stepped closer.

The two were now inches apart, Sam's tall frame leaning over her.

"Then why didn't you? Why did you come down here and disturb _me_ in _my_ office when you could just have easily done it alone? Pray, enlighten us." Ainsley cocked her head to the side, her chin inclined upward. Her voice had softened some as she realized their situation. Her words were more like a caress than a punch now.

"I don't know," Sam whispered. He inclined his head as well.

Their lips were almost touching.

"Forgive me for taking up anymore of your time," Sam said and walked out.

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**A/N: Does the summary make more sense now? Funny, huh? I do love irony. Anyway, this story references my favorite scene of one of my favorite films. If you can guess what that is, then send me a note. I am always open to meeting a fellow film buff. I should also thank my twin/beta, Comic Nerd, because if I didn't, well.... Please blame any errors on her. Special thanks go out to Kerichi for pointing out my formating errors.**


	2. Part 2

**A/N: I had no intention of making this story anything but a one shot, but I was coerced into this by one of the reviewers of part one: goldiloks. Goldiloks' review was so distraught that I couldn't help but want to ease her suffering. Call this a pity chapter if you will. If you were satisfied (or at least sated) by the end of the part one, there is no need to continue. This part is for people like goldiloks only.

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**Bipartisanship: Part 2**

It had been two weeks since their almost-kiss in her office. The two had talked to each other since then--their jobs demanded it--but their conversations tended to be short and cold, devoid of all emotion save indifference. It was as if both had silently agreed to pretend the argument had never happened.

And it was killing Sam.

Every time he shut his eyes, he would see her flushed face inches from his, her fiery blue eyes dark with expectation, her pink lips begging to be kissed. Oh how he wished his pride had not prevented him from giving into that impulse, that primal need to kiss those perfect lips!

But then her words, spoken with such passion, came floating back to him, _"__I am a proud and loyal member of the Republican party, just as my father and grandfather were before me!"_

They were too different. They would never work out together. Their politics would always be a wall between them, too high to scale and too deep to dig under.

No, they could never work out, and Sam knew this.

And so he merely exchanged the occasional polite conversation with her when they met going to or from the mess hall or on the way to a meeting.

Meanwhile he just sat in his office, attempting to write a new speech for the President's upcoming campaign but failing miserably. Every time he thought he had a good idea, it would turn to mush and he would be forced to ball it up, bang it on his desk a few times, and then throw it forcibly at the overflowing trashcan in the corner.

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Toby had noticed Sam's behavior and, frankly put, it was driving him crazy. Toby was angry at Sam's apathy and lack of concentration and was determined to do something about it. He needed his deputy and he needed him now!

Throwing his pink ball at the clear wall separating their two offices, he waited none to patiently for Sam to look up from his notepad before flashing him an evil glare that clearly said, "get in here right now before I do something you will regret but I won't."

Sam arrived at his desk moments later.

"You glared?" Sam asked coldly.

"You need to snap out of it." Toby never was one to avoid the point. "You haven't written anything decent for weeks, I know for a fact you've been sleeping in my office again, and you look like shit."

"Way to boost a man's self-esteem, Toby," Sam said, his face expressionless. He, however, did not attempt to deny anything Toby had said, a point not lost on Toby.

"Something has got you messed up and although it is none of my business what you do in your personal life --"

"You're right, Toby, it isn't," Sam cut in curtly as he made to leave the office.

Toby just flashed him another glare before continuing louder than before, as if he were attempting to drown out any further arguments from Sam. "It becomes my business when it interferes with your work! I need the best speechwriters and shrewdest political minds working for me and recently you have shown yourself to be neither. Either fix whatever's going on or leave. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Sam's face remained expressionless as he gave a stiff nod and turned to leave the office.

This time, Toby let him.

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As Sam left Toby's office, he fully intended to return to his desk and continue his feeble attempts at writing that damned speech, but a stroke of realization made him stop at the doorframe.

He realized that Toby was right: he needed to snap out of this funk. He was risking more than just his physical and mental health now.

Now he was risking his job.

Was Ainsley really worth this? Perhaps. Sam wasn't sure.

But if she were, why should something as stupid as politics keep them from being together? Why did it matter that they were both prominent representatives of two rival political parties, that they had two very different agendas? What truly mattered was that they were both passionate about those issues, that they would both fight for what they believed in for as long as it took to find a solution.

They had more in common than they had not in common.

Sam suddenly felt the indescribable need to go down to Ainsley's office and….

Here his mind drew a blank.

What did he want to do?

Did he want to go and beg her forgiveness? Did he want to go and kiss her like she had never been kissed before? Did he just want to go and argue over something meaningless again? Did he want to go and do all three of those things?

He wasn't sure.

All he knew was that he had to get to her, had to see her, had to be with her, right this very second.

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**A/N: I know, I am so cruel! You probably thought that because of my heart-felt message above, I wouldn't do this to you. Well, sorry, I just couldn't resist. I love sharp conclusions! I'd tell you if I were planning a part three, but I wouldn't want to spoil your rants. Until next time, (or not!)**


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